I have died everyday waiting for you
by fairydustandbooks
Summary: "I think it was the smell of gasoline that finally woke my sister up." After trying to kill herself nearly 3 years ago, Holly's been on an emotional ride to hell. What horrors are locked away in her fragile brain? Why did she try to die all those years ago? After one of the wolves imprints on her, Holly's dark secrets are brought into light.
1. Disclaimer of Sorts

**Sort of a Disclaimer**

This is my first fanfiction story and I'm not promising to be good at it. ..._Alright!_ Now that the whole "I may suck" thing is out of the way, let's talk plot.

"I have died everyday waiting for you" isn't going to be some quick little love story between an OC and a Quileute werewolf. It starts off horribly and that theme sticks with the story throughout.

Although this story has a "T" rating now, it's going to be bumped up to "M" for sure, just because I feel like people who can't/won't read about lemons shouldn't be reading this, even though there are no lemons in this story, as of currently. (That will probably change in the future.) There's going to be some foul language and some touchy taboo things and general whacky/messed up behavior.

I have about three chapters already written, and I'm planning out the fourth.

Ok! If I haven't scared you off too badly, thank you so much for being interested in this story and be sure to review/leave your thoughts. I am new at this and (like I hinted at above) I may need a little help to get my footing.

I'm also going to write one disclaimer for this _entire_ story. Ready?

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or anything to do with Twilight. Everything you recognize is a product of Stephenie Meyer. Everything you do not recognize (like my original characters) belongs to me and I do not grant permission for anyone to use them.**

**Disclaimer: "I have died everyday waiting for you" are lyrics from Christina Perri's song titled 'A Thousand Years' and even though I did not write that song, I'm guilty of being in love with it and I recommend you go listen to it. **

* * *

Official enough, right? Hopefully!

Really, all I'm asking you take away from this page is understanding that I'm a horrible individual with mental problems and my story will reflect that.

xxfairydustandbooks


	2. Chapter 1

**I have died everyday waiting for you**

Chapter 1:

I think it was the smell of gasoline that finally woke my sister up. That's the problem with sharing a room- you're never alone.

"Hol? What are you doing?" Her voice had the groggy quality mine always gets when I first wake up.

I remember laughing at the question; wasn't it obvious what I was doing? I was drenched in the gasoline I'd siphoned off from the lawn mower mere minutes ago, shaking. Instead of answering her, I turned around and continued looking for my lighter.

"Holly?" It sounded like she'd gotten out of bed this time, but I still didn't turn. I was too focused on what I was doing. I picked up a dirty shirt and threw it out of the way, revealing the little red lighter. I snatched it and tried to make my way out of the room.

"Holly, stop! What's that smell? Are you ok?" Presley made a grab for my arm, and I shoved her back roughly.

"Let me out!" I yelled at her, my voice not sounding like my own. My eyes flashed and she stumbled back to let me pass, coughing.

"What are you _doing?" _My twin cried out. There was that question again. It irritated me. What was I doing? What was s_he_ doing? I had the answer to peace and I was going to take it. I just wished I had remembered to bring the lighter outside with me so Presley didn't have to see the resolute decision flash so honestly in my eyes. Her own eyes grew wide as she saw the secrets hidden in mine and I turned out the bedroom door and into the hall, unable to stand it any longer.

I fled down the stairs, clutching the lighter in my hand like an ironic lifeline. I made my way through the house, pausing only slightly when I heard my sister's hysterical scream.

"MOM! MOM, wake up!"

_Not long now. _I know I thought that. Those three words were the only things that kept me going out through the back door and into the driveway. I slipped a little in the puddle of gasoline near the empty canister next to the mower.

The night was soundless outside. Inside my house, lights were turning on rapidly, including the light above the garage where I, the gasoline, and the lawn mower were currently waiting. The unnatural yellow light shone upon my skin, making me hate how white I was. I looked too vulnerable. After this night, I remember swearing, I would never look that vulnerable again. Nobody would ever do that to me again.

"Not long now," I croaked out, just to hear something besides quiet panic. I flicked the lighter, my heart beating faster and faster. This was it- the peace I had tried to seek everyday for the last year.

When the spark didn't light, I flicked it again anxiously. Now that I had made up my mind, I wanted it to be over quickly. The spark didn't light a second time and I let out a hiss.

I shook the lighter just when I started to hear distant sirens. Through the numbness I registered that my mother had probably called for help. In the rotten lighting, I held up the lighter and shook it again, more frantically this time. A miniscule amount of lighter fluid rocked back and forth.

It would be enough, it had to be. Like the little engine that could, my little red lighter would catch fire. I flicked the wheel again and the spark fizzled out just as before.

The sirens were getting louder now, as was the beating panic of my heart. I blinked back tears of pure torture and flicked the wheel a fourth time, muttering nonsense words underneath my breath.

Presley came running out of the house, that much I knew. But this next part is where I forget, because the fourth time the lighter fluid catches. It catches the spark, it catches the gasoline on my hand, and it catches my skin.

The fear of the unknown, the scorching and indescribable pain of literally being burned alive. The frustration because it did not work. I am not dead. The sirens came and saved me in a halo of red and blue and white, which hurt my nose and put out the flames on my skin.

Frustration that, despite my best efforts, my heart remained beating.

And If I screamed, I honestly don't remember.


	3. Chapter 2

**I have died everyday waiting for you**

Chapter 2:

When people know you've tried to kill yourself, they treat you differently. For starters, even though it's been nearly three years since that unmentionable night, my mother still won't let me out of her sight for more than a minute at a time. My twin, Presley, is even worse.

"Hol? You almost done in the bathroom? I have my time of the month and I _need_ tampons before school."

I groaned out and flushed the toilet, making sure to leave the lid open so she would be able to hear the noise clearly through the shut- never locked- door. I waved goodbye to the slew of medication as it was sucked down the pipes. Presley shuffled her feet at the same time I shuffled mine towards the sink.

I ran the tap water on high and sat down on the bathroom floor, humming a tune that had been stuck in my head ever since I woke up this morning. I was unsure of its origins and it had been driving me crazy trying to figure it out all morning.

Presley knocked on the door. "Holly! Seriously, you've been washing your hands for a lifetime and my school starts before yours, r_emember? _I need tampons!" My sister sounded almost unattractive when she whined, I decided.

I stood back up and turned the tap off just as the bathroom door was swung open by my very impatient sister. She looked around the bathroom suspiciously before ducking underneath the counter in search of her salvation. "Where are they?" She muttered, "…Gotcha! Ok, thanks for getting out of the bathroom ever so quickly." Presley batted her eyelashes at me and tucked a tampon into her checkered school bag.

I bowed low to the floor and said sarcastically, "Why you're ever so welcome. Nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Presley brushed some of her long hair out of her face and snorted. "Right. Just don't be dead when I get home, ok?" Now it was my turn to snort. She wrapped me in a vice-like grip that I suppose could have passed for a hug. I was slightly taller than her so Presley's arms went around my neck tightly.

Her hipbone poked me through multiple layers of clothing and I jutted my butt back to avoid it. "Ow." I mumbled before I could stop myself. Presley released me from the death trap and whacked me on the side of the head not lightly.

"Stop it." She told me, like _I'd_ been the one to hit _her. _

I was still rubbing my head when she turned and left me in the bathroom. I followed her downstairs quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace with my presence. When I got into the kitchen I stopped and sniffed.

"Hello Toast!" I greeted the delicious bread slices warmly and sat down at the bar, where three slices had already been set out for me. Presley didn't look back and the door slammed behind her. While I started lathering my first piece with butter, the purr of an engine started in the background, marking her exit.

My mom walked into the room, munching. I narrowed my eyes at her hand where she held the fourth piece of toast. "That would explain why I only have three."

She stopped chewing and looked up at me, almost bored. My mother never looks anything but bored these days, except when Presley's home. Then she almost looks eager. "If you want another," she said around a mouthful, "tell me now."

I huffed. "I think you should ask the friendless toast what _it_ wants, Miriam." I used my mother's first name, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of her. A blink was not what I was hoping for.

"Your school bus should be here in another minute. I'm going grocery shopping later so I'll have my cell with me. Don't do anything stupid or illegal because I don't want to make the drive."

I gave a fake yawn. "What a shame. I was thinking arson today, seeing as last week I sampled grand theft auto."

Miriam brandished the toast toward me as if it was a weapon. "Holly, _stop. _You're lucky that Chief Swan dropped those charges. He had the power to put you behind bars. You stole his daughter's truck for fuck sakes!"

I shrieked and plugged my ears with my fingers, shouting loudly, "You cursed! Dr. Owens says I don't have to listen if anyone curses at me!" When I saw my mother rush forward angrily, dropping the half eaten toast to the floor, I squeezed my eyes shut and tensed.

Her cold hands grabbed my face and I flinched. She did something funny to my cheeks, because the next thing I knew my eyes were being forced open. I stared up at her flushed, wrinkled face as she clenched my face harder. It started to sting. "Stop it! _Just stop it_! I'm trying, Holly, but I don't understand! I don't understand you! Help me to understand!"

"You smell like smoke," I rasped out, my voice sounding squished. Miriam shut down and she, thankfully, let go of my face. I'm sure it was red. I wondered if the redness would add the sparkle to my eye Presley always gets when she wears blush.

We both just looked at each other until, finally, the bus announced its arrival with a series of loud honks. Miriam sighed and held her head in her hands. "Go," she sounded defeated. "Just get out." I grabbed my dingy checkered bag off the counter where it was sitting next to my last bits of toast. My bag matched Presley's, except mine had character. I had drawn all over it.

When I looked back as I was shutting the door, my mother had the same bored expression on her face. I wondered if she practiced it in the mirror. I had concurred that, yes, she probably did practice, when I mounted the steps of the bus.

The driver, a fat sweaty man, nodded and smiled up at me hesitatingly. "And how are we today?" I stared at his fat spilling over the buckle of his pants. I watched as he shifted in obvious discomfort. I bet my mother pays him extra to make feeble conversation with me every morning. I felt sorry for him. His left hand was bare, indicating he wasn't married.

I had ruled out girlfriend, too, when he motioned for me to continue to my designated seat on the bus after he finished checking my name off his list.

Including myself, there are exactly five other people who ride the cheery yellow bus every morning to and from the reservation high school. I only ever paid attention to one of them- a smart looking girl named Kim who never seemed to stop blushing. She was my seatmate.

Her stop was also before mine, so as I made my way towards our shared bench, she shifted her bag over, giving me the room I required. Kim tucked a piece of her dark hair behind her ear and I stared at her skin. Unlike my stare with the fat driver, this stare was not designed to make Kim uncomfortable.

I didn't think I would do that. She was nice to me. I kept staring at the skin on her arm, mentally comparing it to mine. I wished my skin had the healthy russet glow hers always seemed to have. I hated my whiteness. It didn't fit in here. Kim also had one nice freckle that I was envious of. Both Presley and I only have freckles on our backs, where generally nobody can notice them. Kim's left arm was littered with them. I tilted my head forward and laid it across the back of the bench in front of ours so I could study her right arm.

"Hi, Holly." Kim greeted me louder than normal and I jerked myself into the normal upright sitting position, mimicking her. "What's up?" Her voice had quieted now and I noticed the faint redness to her cheeks.

"Nothing," I said honestly. The word echoed around in my skull.

"Bad morning?" She asked me.

I nodded my head forward. "Yup." I popped the _P _and kneaded my hands together.

"Me too."

And that was it. The rest of the ride was sat in compatible silence. I lived the closest to the reservation, so I was the last to be picked up. The bus pulled up to the school minutes later, and we all exited.

I kept my head down as I walked, focusing on how many steps I was taking. School always begins and ends in a blur to me. Today was not going to be an exception.

I was halfway through my first period class, History, when I blinked rapidly and sat up straighter. I held in the groan and laid my head back down onto the table with a thud. The person next to me- I didn't know his name- scooted his chair slightly away from me. I didn't blame him.

I realized that my scarred hand and arm was lying out, directly in front of me. I sat up and started to tuck it underneath the desk, only to pause in horror when I realized I was wearing a t-shirt. I recoiled from myself and looked around. Nobody seemed the wiser to my sudden mental clarity.

I nudged my bag open with my foot because it was on the floor and spotted my sweatshirt inside. I thanked god I hadn't remembered to take it out this morning and quickly put it on and zipped it up as high as it would allow. I popped the hood on over my head, too.

I tied the drawstrings under my chin and let my head plop back onto the table. The sound shattered the silence in the room, save the scratching of the pens. Was I supposed to be taking notes? I thought about it for a moment, and then decided I didn't care. The boy next to me scooted even farther away and I cringed inwardly. I didn't want to be here. I really, really didn't want to be here.

Throughout the last bit of History, I degraded myself mentally, replaying the flashbacks of this morning when I stupidly flushed my pills down the toilet instead of taking them. If I had taken them, I wouldn't be sitting here like this. I'd be in my happy little land, free as a bird with no inhibitions.

Only after promising myself that I would go home during lunch to take them, could I finally zone out completely. My eyes stayed unfocused until the bell rang and I walked, all too aware, to my next class- English.

In English I pretended to read a chapter of _Hamlet_ and in Math, the class before lunch, I didn't pretend to do anything. Mr. Gillinger wasn't there and the substitute seemed to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I knew how serious those could be and I consider it a public service that I didn't burden the poor sub with any questions….or movement. The base of my spine got achy because I held myself so still. There wasn't a reason for it, other than to prove to myself that I could.

When the bell signaled the end of Math and the beginning of Lunch, I calmly weaved through all the students crowding the cafeteria halls and made my way to the exit. Upperclassmen were allowed to leave during lunch, so long as we were back on time for our next class. It gave me about an hour.

I snuck out of the side, feeling like a criminal, which was weird, because I was _allowed_ to leave. I kept my gray sweatshirt bundled up all around me like a cocoon. The gentle mist that had been surrounding the school turned into a steady drizzle the faster I jogged away. Even though I'm bussed to and back every day, my house is in walking distance from the reservation high school.

I aimed my feet straight and counting the breaths echoing through my empty brain. I heard cars starting all around the student parking lot behind me. Not a lot of students had cars here, but those that did never stayed during the hour lunch break.

I picked up my pace once I was on the street. My sneakers sloshed through little puddles but I ignored how cold my feet were becoming because the quicker I jogged the sooner I'd be safely home. I faltered in my steady beat when a delivery truck rounded the corner, disturbing the peace. The tires were definitely spinning faster than the allotted twenty-five miles per hour and I watched mud and rain drops squish out of the way to avoid being hit.

The driver didn't slow as we approached each other and I kept my eyes locked onto the wheels. I thought about jumping in front of the truck so I slapped myself across the face- hard. "_Stop." _I told myself firmly. The slap helped more than the word so I slapped my other cheek, making my neck snap to the side and my palm sting.

I alternated slapping the sides of my face the rest of the way home. When I finally was standing on the porch, I blinked rapidly, trying to remember when I climbed the stairs leading up to the front door. I was still trying to remember even passing the mailbox out front when I found my key at the bottom of my bag and let myself into the house.

The gust of warm air helped to ease the pain in my stinging face and palms. I tore my sneakers off and dropped my bag on the mat next to them. "Anyone home?" I asked the walls.

Walls don't have voices, so I didn't get a reply. I checked the time on my outdated cell phone and my heart leapt in my chest- I had twenty minutes to get back to school. I didn't know where those extra minutes had gone and I wasn't in the mood to question myself today.

Upstairs in the bathroom I found what I needed- my medication. And a hairbrush. I brushed my hair first, dragging the teeth through the lumps my dirty blonde hair had formed. Presley's hair was inches longer than mine and perfectly in place- always. I pulled out a few more strands and then stopped procrastinating.

I shook out five pills, all from different bottles, and dry swallowed them one by one. I immediately felt nauseous after the last pill stuck its way down my throat. I turned on the tap and drank straight from the stream. The cold water splashed into my stomach, giving me the feeling like I was a water balloon.

I didn't want to go back to school afterwards. I stared myself down in the mirror until the colors of my face started to swirl together, leaving behind a messy splotch of gray. Shaking out my head only made it worse.

I walked aimlessly through the house afterwards in a daze, ending up in the kitchen. My stomach rumbled approvingly, angry at me for only having three pieces of toast this morning. I pressed my forehead to the steel refrigerator door, letting the cool work its way deep into my brain.

I felt hot and claustrophobic all of a sudden, which wasn't unusual, so I stripped the sweatshirt off. My jeans went next, as did my socks. I left them there in a damp huddle and spooned myself some yogurt directly out of the container. I brought the spoon and the yogurt with me back upstairs and sat down in my bed, underneath the covers.

I burped loudly and shoveled in the last of the yogurt. It didn't have much of a taste and felt like I was eating cool worm guts. That thought gave me the strength to put the container and spoon down on the floor. I turned over and nestled into my mattress.

I didn't have to wait long before sleep came to me.

XOXO  
ಠ_ʘ  
XOXO

I woke up the same way I had fallen asleep- quickly. My eyes just sort of popped open and I got out of bed, stepping right into the yogurt container. I didn't know what time it was and frankly, didn't care. I wiped my foot off on the rug as I made my way to the bathroom.

I wiped my hair out of my face because it was sticky with sweat. The mirror in the bathroom revealed that my normally green eyes were a little bloodshot. I fiddled with my plain earrings and sat down on the toilet lid, leaning my head down on my knees. I groaned at the same time my stomach gurgled.

A knock on the bathroom door jolted me up. "Holly? How was school, you ditcher?" My twin's voice carried its way through the door and she sounded like she was standing right next to me.

"Go away." I mumbled.

Presley did the opposite. The door burst open and knelt down on the plush rug in front of the toilet so we were at eye level. When I raised my eyes up to meet hers, I was met with a blow to the side of the face. I held in a laugh because my face was already numb. I barely felt the slap she had given me.

"_Stop." _Presley told me seriously. "You need to get your shit together, Holly. I mean it."

I stuck my tongue out at her, "Dr. Owens says I don't have to listen to anyone who curses at me."

She stood up suddenly, dragging me with her. "The school called after you didn't come back. I intercepted it- you should be glad Fork's High gets out sooner than the reservation. Mom will be home soon with the groceries and- _Holly? _ Are you even listening to me?"

My attention didn't snap back to my sister. It snapped to the stairs, which we were currently walking down. "Can you make me some toast, Presley? Pres, Pres, Presley?"

She shoved past me, leaving me on the stairs. "You didn't hear a single word I said, did you?" Her voice got louder and harsher, "You're probably not even listening to me now, are you? God, no wonder why mom can't stand you." I froze. Did she really just say that? I wasn't positive. And the onslaught wasn't done.

"What are you doing to do if I wasn't here? Starve? It's a _toaster_, Holly! I want to hit that therapist who said you were unfit to use one." I sat down on my spot on the stairs and listened to my sister bang open draws and violently shove the toast down into the slots.

Presley came back around to where I was a minute later. I counted.

Her voice was soft this time. "You want butter on the toast, right?" I nodded quickly and held up four fingers. Presley took my hand in hers and kissed it. "Four pieces. I got it."

I scooted down the rest of the stairs and crawled into the living room. I popped on the TV to the station where you didn't have to pay attention to follow what was going on. I think it was a game show. I zoned out and let the bright lights of the TV burn holes into my eyes in the dark room. My twin brought me four pieces of buttered toast at the commercials and I ate them happily.

I don't know where she went after that. Miriam got home just as the show was ending and I was eating the last bite of my snack.

My mother didn't ask me to help bring in or put away the groceries and I didn't offer to. I watched her struggle with a silent fascination. I wondered why she didn't ask for my help. It would be less strain on her. I allowed myself to think of what Presley had said: my own mother couldn't stand me. I had suspected something was going on, but dislike never crossed my mind.

Shame filled me and I curled up further into the couch, hiding.

My mother's warm breathe woke me up long hours later. I cracked my eyes open and was followed by immediate discomfort. "Did you sleep out here all night?"

It took me a moment to flip myself over on the couch and get my bearings. I looked up at my mom and shrugged. Miriam sat down on the couch next to me and whispered for me to turn around before she started threading her fingers through my tangles. Neither of us said anything.

Presley walked past the doorway silently and grinned at me. "Don't forget to take your pills, Crazy!" Her stage whisper reached my ears and my mother's hands faltered when I nodded. Presley, happy with her day's work I suppose, flounced out the door. I assumed she was going to school.

Miriam pulled me back against her, so I was resting my full weight on her chest. She kissed the side of my head and sighed. "I miss this, Holly." She confessed to me. "I know you're still suffering and I feel like there's nothing I can do about it." My mother sniffed loudly, right next to my ear.

"That was loud." I remarked.

She gave a half laugh. "What was? My nose?" I nodded against her and felt my hair get messed up again. Miriam rubber her hands up and down my arms. "Sorry, baby." A weight settled in my chest and I had the distinct feeling that she was apologizing for something else, too.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Don't worry! The wolves are coming, I swear. I kept the "T" for this chapter and I'm still debating if I should change it for the next or not. I also get the feeling I'm more of a "once-a-week" kind of update girl, but if you want me to update sooner, let me know in a review! Thanks to everyone reading this! xx


	4. Chapter 3

**I have died everyday waiting for you**

Chapter 3:

Running in wolf form wasn't like running on two legs. To be completely honest, I felt like a total badass. Of course, that feeling ended the moment I hit the confines of my backyard. I felt a cool nose bump my shoulder and then Jared's thoughts hit my mind: "_Emb, you can handle this, just go in and-"_

"_-take no fucking prisoners!" _

"_Brady, shut your mouth." _Jared ordered, snarling. The smaller gray brown wolf heaved a sigh and looked pointedly at the ground. _"Just because Sam isn't here doesn't mean you can dick around." _

Whatever Brady was coughing out in his defense, I didn't hear because my four legs were quickly changing back to two. In a matter of seconds I was standing before both of my brothers, stark naked. I was thankful when both Jared and Brady kept their eyes cast obviously downward.

"I got this." I tried to assure them both. I cracked my knuckles and let my eyes roam over my backyard. I didn't turn around as I heard them slowly make their exit. After double checking that no one was around, I darted as fast as I dared out of the woods to my backdoor- and, unfortunately, that was as far as I got.

"Shit!" I breathed out, jiggling the handle in my huge hand. It was definitely locked.

The way I saw it, I had two options. I could either ring the bell and let my mother see me like this, only to be verbally attacked about were I've been for the last ten or so hours and why I was coming home without a single piece of clothing on me, _or _I could bust the door down and hope I could fix the damage before she noticed and keep a shred of my dignity.

I picked the more solid route- literally. I put my hand against the door, folding it into a fist. Rationally, with my new wolf super genes, I knew it wouldn't hurt, but I had seventeen years of experience telling me it would. Before I could re-think my choice, I charged my first forward, wincing slightly at the sound of cracking wood.

I peeked my right eye open cautiously and was pleased to see an Embry sized fist hole. I stuck my hand through the hole and reached down, feeling for the lock. A moment later the door swung open and I was inside.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, the kitchen light flew on. I looked up like a deer caught in headlights, or rather, like a wolf caught in a trap. My mother got up unsteadily from her stool seat. The half empty bottle of wine she clutched strongly showed why. A moment too late, I realized I was still naked. I covered myself quickly, my face red with humiliation.

"And here I thought you gave a shit." My mother scoffed down at me. "I don't know _what_ to think anymore Embry Call!" I didn't say anything, fixing my eyes on the wall behind her. I resisted the urge to swallow. She took a long swig of the wine.

"How will I know if you'll even come home next time! You're out doing god knows what, _busting holes through my house! _I won't have it anymore!" She took another swig. I noticed a fly land on the wall I had yet to look away from. I jumped slightly when she started screaming, waving the near empty bottle around like a weapon.

"I _won't! _ You need to grow up, Embry Call! The sacrifices I make for you, only to have you _knock them back in my face!_" Her voice ripped with the strain of the words she threw at me. Her breaths came in harsh gasps and I finally took the courage to look her in the face. My hands were barely trembling and I took a moment to acknowledge the accomplishment. I prided myself on the impeccable control I had mastered.

I held her gaze and my mother's mouth turned down. "I've made an appointment with a therapist and you _will_ go. You'll go or so help me god I'll hunt you down. My heart can't take it anymore, Embry. Every night you come home later and later, always exhausted. You've backed me into a corner and I don't know what to do."

I sighed softly, too soft for her to hear, at the confession. I wanted to tell her what was going on, but it just wasn't safe. She wouldn't believe me, or worse, she would. I saw what knowing did to Harry and what it was doing to Sue. I didn't think it was fair that she should have to be dragged into this, too, just because she made a mistake nearly eighteen years ago that resulted in…well, me.

My mother shook her head at me and walked drunkenly past me and up the stairs. About halfway up she called over her shoulder, "And next time, come home wearing some damned clothes. I'm too young to be a grandmother."

XOXO  
ಠ_ʘ  
XOXO

The therapy meeting turned out to be a complete joke. My mother had conveniently forgotten she had work that day and couldn't drive me around her schedule. It wasn't a big deal; I could have phased in an instant and been to the brick Fork's building in two. The big deal was, however, the fact that my mother had no idea I _could_ do those things. When she was deliberating on who to call, I volunteered to ask Jared. We made a bet a week ago on a football game, which I had won. I'd yet to collect my winnings and figured this would stand in place of it.

Only after calling two of her friends and a taxi service did she agree. Both friends were working and the taxi rates were too expensive. "Fine." She had at last conceited, "Call your damn friend." And that's how I ended up here- sitting in a stifling room with no ventilation while some crackpot therapist watches the minutes click by like dollar signs. I had thought of tricking my mother and not coming, but I figured after all the shit I've given her these past months, I may as well show that I was trying. Even though this therapy meeting wouldn't change shit.

Thankfully, our time was almost over.

"Well, Embry, it's been a pleasure." Dr. Owens, a graying fatherly type, stuck his hand out and grasped mine in a firm handshake. "You seem like a good kid, Sport." I tried not to cringe at the nickname. "Maybe just someone who got caught up in the wrong crowd? Friends who are pressuring you…?" I know he's fishing for more information. Too bad he's doing a terrible job of it.

Some part of me thinks that he just wants to walk away with something from this. An hour and fifteen minutes and he still only knew my name and the bare minimal of my situation- most of which he had gleaned from my mother. Dr. Owens and I had gotten off on the wrong foot from the start of this session, when he first started spewing shit at me about how every young man goes through these things- how he, himself, went through the same situations.

I highly doubted that. But still, I could see he really did want to help me. It wasn't his fault he was only human.

I decided to throw him a bone, figuratively speaking, of course. I scrunched up my face like I was in deep thought. "Actually, yeah… I guess some of the guys have been a little tougher on me than normal."

Dr. Owens burst out a smile. "That's great you realize it, Embry." He clasped my shoulder and guided me to the door. "I want you to think about who some of these friends may be and why they're pressuring you, ok? Next week we're going to work on saying _No." _ I raised my eyes at his sudden change in voice.

"Startling, isn't it?"

"Is what?" I asked stupidly.

Dr. Owens winked at me, like he was giving me some life changing secret. "The power of the _No." _He did it again- making his voice deeper and frowning slightly, putting more force behind the word. He opened the door and gave me a slight push out the room and into the waiting area. "I'll see you next week, Sport." Dr. Owens scanned the chairs and his face sank when his eyes landed on a smallish girl sitting on the floor, wrapped in a heavy gray sweatshirt, with her back pressed against the wall.

"Holly?" He spoke to her, "I'll be with you in a minute."

The girl looked up and I realized that she was older than I assumed she was- almost my age, even. "My mother cursed at me again." She said seriously.

Dr. Owens shifted his weight nervously behind me. "Alright, we'll talk through that. Please use a chair when you're in this office, hmm?"

The girl looked up at him with such reproach I had to bite a knuckle to hold in the sudden laugh bubbling up my gut. "You can't fall off the floor, Dr. Owens."

I got the feeling Dr. Owens was no longer amused. I took a seat over to the left, away from them both, and tried to focus my attention on other things. With my wolf hearing, it was hard. Especially when Dr. Owens refused to let the girl just sit there.

From the corner of my eye, I watched as he crouched down in front of her and place a hand on each of her shoulders. "The floor is for what, Holly?" She didn't respond. Frustration flowed off the therapist so thick, it coated the room. His hands gripped her shoulders harder and a noise escaped from the girl. "Floors are for _what,_ Holly?"

She mumbled something even I couldn't hear.

"_Stop. _Use your words!" Dr. Owens told her loudly, all up in her face. I clenched my fists together to mask the obvious trembling.

"Animals." She whispered. Shock registered on my face for a split second.

"Good girl." Dr. Owens said as he released his grip, seemingly satisfied with her answer. When he swept some hair out of her face, his hands resting on her neck for a moment too long, I let out a low growl and curled my toes. His actions were creeping me out, and if they were doing that to me where I sat, yards away, I could only imagine what the poor girl was feeling.

"Sit on the chair." He ordered. This time she obeyed. Her eyes stayed firmly shut. My stomach clenched.

Dr. Owens retreated back into his office, closing the door more firmly than necessary.

The receptionist, a large woman with curly red hair, from across the room called me over. I got up slowly, making sure not to look at the girl. I didn't want to cause her any more embarrassment.

"Embry Call, Embry Call." The woman muttered to herself and typed a few secretive things into what I guessed was my online file. "How's the 13th? Of June?" I shrugged at her blankly. From outside the tiny window behind her, I saw Jared pull Jake's beat up truck into the lot. Kim was riding shotgun.

"Alright, Mr. Call. We will see you on June 13th, that's a Wednesday. Now don't forget- write it down and I'll call your mother will payment plans sometime tomorrow." The woman dismissed me easily, but that last part nagged at my insides.

"How much is this costing?" Expensive, I was sure. More than a taxi fare, which we couldn't pay.

She smiled up sweetly at me. "That depends on Dr. Owens' analysis after the first meeting-which you just had." I could tell I wasn't going to get a straight answer out of her. Most likely because the good old Doc would want to go up higher than any number I was prepared to accept. He'd try to wear my mother out over the phone later, I was sure.

"Goodbye now, Mr. Call."

I didn't bother responding. I stuffed my appointment reminder into my pocket and headed towards the door. I turned back to close the door behind me just in time to watch the girl throw herself out of the chair headfirst and land in a puddle on the floor, her eyes now open. She laid in the heap and didn't move while I stared down at her, aghast, and was met by a punch to the gut when I looked directly into her green eyes.

She looked miserable. Dr. Owens rushed out of his office, slowing down considerably when he saw I was still there. "Embry, have a safe journey home and remember: _No."_ He waved goodbye halfheartedly and motioned the receptionist to join him by the girl. Together I watched as both of them helped her back into the chair.

Not knowing what else to do, I let the door close, creating a wall between me and them. I smiled horribly to myself, realizing the irony. There would always be a wall between me and other people- humans. All my old friends, my mother, fuck, the girl inside. They were all human and I wasn't.

If Dr. Owens had dropped any pearls of wisdom on me today, it was no match for the physical evidence of that door shutting quietly in my face and me, helpless to stop it.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hi! The next chapter will 100% be rated "M". I would love it if you all submitted a quick review, even if it's just one word. I feel like this story isn't following the normal Twilight fanfiction recipe and I just want to make sure I'm not messing up completely. Thank you! xx


	5. Chapter 4

**Please Note: T**his chapter changed the rating from "T" to "M" _for a reason. _It is not for the faint of heart

* * *

**I have died everyday waiting for you**

Chapter 4:

I stared at the spot where the unnaturally big man had just exited. Everything looked bigger from the floor view, including the distance to the door. It seemed like I would only get out of here when a lifetime had passed. My eyes stung and my nose stuffed itself up.

Dr. Owens and a woman I hadn't cared to learn the name of lifted me off the floor. I squirmed, not liking the feeling of their hands on me. Dr. Owens scolded me with a hard pinch to my upper arm. "Control yourself." He hissed at me. I coughed as his rancid breath filtered through my nose. The smell of old cigarettes and tuna made my eyes water.

The woman left me alone with him after they finished depositing me onto his patients couch in his office. I missed the waiting room. I squeezed my eyes shut and pretended I was back there.

I pretended I couldn't smell Dr. Owens' cologne and nasty breath as it clogged my nose. He was close to me now- much too close. I did nothing to stop the panic I felt.

I pretended that his cold hands didn't swarm my body, first softly, then growing rougher and rougher. I didn't shudder away from his touch because I was not there. I was back in the waiting room.

I pretended that I didn't hear his zipper pull down.

I pretended that he didn't grab my arms and position me how he pleased on the couch. I pretended his weight didn't suffocate me as he climbed on top of me, trapping me, and I pretended that he didn't move my hands to his thighs. I pretended I didn't hear his urging noises.

He took my hands and shoved them downward, moaning pitifully. I was in the waiting room. He captured both hands and held them against his bare crotch. I was in the waiting room. Dr. Owens leaned down and pressed his wet lips to my face, wiping them all over. I was in the waiting room. The grunts got louder as he moved my hands faster. _I was in the waiting room. _

I squeezed my eyes shut and stopped breathing. My body betrayed me a minute later and I gasped for air. The ceiling had three tiles that were darker than the others. Dr. Owens was sweating and grunting and panting. It was almost over. My jeans chaffed on my stomach and I focused on that slight pain. I was in the waiting room I was in the waiting room.

He bent forward and pawed at my chest. I was in the waiting room I was in the waiting room I was in the waiting room I wasin thewaiting room Iwasinthe waiting room Iwasinthewaitingroom Iwasinthewaitingroom Iwasinthewaitingroom . One final tug and he collapsed on top of me.

Dr. Owens did not run his hands down my arms and he did not pat the side of my head condescendingly. His filthy hands did not touch me and he did not thank me for being a good girl.

What he did do, was step off the couch, pull up his pants, and straighten his tie.

I was still on the couch, trembling. My eyes bore holes into the back of his shirt. My body did not feel like my own.

He turned and smirked at me. "Keep giving me looks like that and I'll suggest you need to go back to Cloverville." I looked away. "That's what I thought."

Dr. Owens wiped at the sweat on his neck with a discolored tissue and sat down behind his desk with a satisfied look. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind the couch and grinned widely. "We've made excellent time, Holly. We still have about an hour of time left together." He clasped his hands in front of him on the desk and crooked his head. "Now, is there anything you would like to talk about?"

I wished Presley was here.

XOXO  
ಠ_ʘ  
XOXO

After I threw up the second time, Miriam started to insist I should go to the doctor. I lay on the bathroom floor next to the toilet and hummed a short upbeat tune. The bits of hair that covered my eyes swirled around in my vision and I asked them nicely to go away.

My mother left after I said that. I immediately missed her company. I didn't feel like being alone. I coughed a little and rolled over onto my side. I positioned my hands so that they were both behind me. My right shoulder popped.

My stomach churned but I knew that I wouldn't throw up again. After I took the new handful of medication, I barely remembered why I was throwing up in the first place.

I narrowed my eyes as a sudden thought struck me. "Food poisoning!" I gasped out. "_Miriam!"_ I screamed. I screamed and I screamed and I screamed and my feet were kicking but I wasn't the one moving them. My body thrashed around like a marionette and I screamed some more. My throat cracked and the voice echoed around in the bathroom, bouncing back to my skull.

A rush of footsteps came charging up the stairs. "Holly? What!" I imagined my mother flying into the bathroom on a broomstick. That was the only explanation for how she'd gotten up the stairs so quickly.

A second voice joined hers. "You _freak_ Holly, why did you start yelling? I was _on the phone!_ They probably heard your lose your shit!"

"Sorry," I mumbled out to Presley. She scoffed and stormed away. Miriam was leaning down over my face now and was brushing the hair out of my eyes. I blinked and looked at her. Her eyes were brown. I sat up quickly and my head swirled.

"Holly, Holly! What is it, what? Oh god. Answer me right this sec-!"

I clamped a hand down over her mouth. My mother's nose wrinkled and she pried my hand away. Belatedly I realized that I forgot to wash my hands after throwing up. They probably smelled.

"I'm trying to remember…" I trailed off. Why did I need her here? Oh! Right…"You poisoned me!" I yelled, pointing a finger at her. "I threw up because you gave me rotten toast!"

Miriam looked taken aback. She did something funny with her face because her forehead wrinkled itself up. I couldn't hold in the laugh that spurted out of me. My laughter only made her face more wrinkled, which in turn, made me laugh even harder.

Miriam wrapped her arms around me and held me close. The laughter was dying down now, but still came in tiny gasps. My mother squeezed me tightly and whispered against my hair, "I love you, baby girl."

I didn't say anything back but I squeezed her just as hard as she held me.

"Can we go out for food?" I asked her. My mother looked down at me and before she could answer, I tacked on, "just the two of us?"

"I think we could swing that. There's a new place that opened by Dr. Owens' office. Do you remember me telling you about it last week? It's supposed to be really..."

I stopped listening to her speech. I detangled myself from her body and walked into my room. I shivered slightly at the change in temperature. I saw that my window was open. I wasn't sure if I was the one who opened it or not.

I grabbed my sweatshirt from the floor and pulled it around my body. "Ready!" I shouted.

"Ready for what?" Presley walked into my room and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Miriam," Presley rolled her eyes at the name, "and I are attending dinner together."

"Why can't you just call her _mom?_"

I sat down on the bed next to her. Presley told me to turn around and I did. Her fingers weaved themselves through my hair, braiding it. A minute later her fingers stilled and I felt the slight tug of a hair band.

"Thank you, Presley." I mumbled.

"Have fun at dinner without me, Holly. I'll just eat something here. Not like I'll starve or anything. Not like we basically have no food or anything."

I stood up quickly. "Don't eat the toast." I said seriously, and then walked out of the room, leaving my twin sister behind.

I faintly heard her mocking me, "_Don't eat the toast says my fuckin' crazy sister."_

I tuned myself out as I walked down the stairs because she had cursed and Dr. Owens says I don't have to listen to anyone who curses at me.

XOXO  
ಠ_ʘ  
XOXO

I stared down at my empty plate, wondering where all the food had gone. I let out a particularly loud belch and patted my unsatisfied stomach.

"Embry, you burp again at the table and it'll be the last thing you do."

"Sorry, Ma." Grinned at her sheepishly and ran a hand through my longish hair. I mentally reminded myself to ask Emily if she would shave it down again. It never used to grow this fast. Goddamned wolf genes.

Mom gave me a reproachful look and started to clear away the dishes, walking them over to the sink. I got up quickly and took the empty lasagna plate out from the middle of the table. I dumped it into the sink and hosed it down with soapy water while my mom puttered around the dining room, shifting back and forth nervously. I heard her heartbeat speed up.

"Just spit it out, Embry. What's going on?" Her breathing hitched.

I paused washing the dish. "How do you know something's going on?" I asked her.

"My son, in the kitchen, _cleaning dishes?_ The last time you helped me around the house you stayed out until six in the morning and came back filthy."

I winced slightly, remembering that night. Jasper Cullen had crossed the treaty line hunting a deer and Sam had been pissed. Japser said it was purely accidental, but I wasn't buying it. We ran the La Push perimeter for hours on end when Sam, Jake, and the leeches talked it over. In the end it was worked out, but our treaty was very nearly broken. The bloodsuckers coming onto our land was unacceptable. As far as I was concerned, if it happened again, the treaty was off for good.

"_So?_ What is it?" My mom had her hands on her hips now, glaring at me. Her eyes though…the look there was like a kick to the spleen. I didn't want to lie to her, but she could never know the truth. If being in the dark was supposedly going to keep her safer, then so be it.

"I'm going out with Paul later. School stuff." I shrugged.

My mom sighed. "Embry, stay in tonight." She pleaded.

The honk of a horn from outside penetrated through our house. Leave it to Paul to have terrible timing.

"Ma-"

She raised a hand in defeat. "What I say clearly doesn't hold any stock with you because it sounds like your friend just arrived. You were planning on going, regardless of what my answer was."

I held her gaze steadily. Two quick honks, one after the other, cut through the silence. My mother shook her head sadly. I knew I had disappointed her.

I left the soapy dish in the sink and walked out of the house. I didn't apologize. I had said sorry so many times already, and I couldn't bring myself to tell her those empty words anymore.

The air inside Paul's beat up van was bitter with impatience.

"The fuck took so long?" He snarled at me.

"Dude, just drive, alright?" I snapped back. "I'm not in the mood." The van made a sharp stop and I flung forward into the windshield.

"I'm not your goddamned chauffer. You _get _in the mood. I'm only driving to Forks because it was this or listening to Kristy bitch at me again. Plus, not gonna lie, the thought of you punching out a psychiatrist is hilarious."

Paul resumed driving. I frowned, digesting his speech. "I'm not going to 'punch out' anyone. I'm going to _talk_ to the _therapist_ about the prices these shitty sessions are costing me."

"How much he'd try to take you for?"

"Two fifty per session." I thanked my lucky stars I was able to intercept the phone call from the office when they called after my appointment. The thought of going into that building for a second time today was leaving a bad taste in my mouth, but the thought of my mom actually paying the hack that amount of money left me with a bad taste all over.

Paul whistled appreciatively. "Guy's got balls."

"I'm going to try and haggle him down to seventy-five. Then all I have to do is make a speedy recovery and I'll be outta there by the end of the month. I'll say a few words, squeeze out a tear, and thank him for nothing." I clapped my hands together. "Foolproof."

Paul's van wheezed through a yellow light.

"Hey, Asshat." Paul growled dangerously and I pointed a thumb over my shoulder. "You missed the turn."

The way Paul swung the truck around was definitely not legal. Guessing by the number of angry honks and middle fingers we received, I think it's safe to say the general population of Forks agreed with me.

By the time Paul managed to park crookedly in the building's parking lot, my hands had a slight tremor to them. I fisted my hands, making sure he didn't see them. Paul would never let me live it down that his careless driving had broken my hard earned control.

He gave me an eat shit grin and hopped out of the truck. Belatedly, I realized that he may be enjoying himself too much.

"Which way?" He asked me. I started to point when he raised a hand to cut me off. "No, wait, I'll just sniff the air like some tracking dog or whatever and follow the scent of douche bag."

I slugged him in the shoulder not lightly and lowered my voice threateningly. "We're just here to talk to him. Cut the shit."

I barged ahead of him and to my pleasure, Paul followed me willingly. We walked silently into the lobby and took the elevator up to Dr. Owens' office. I swallowed my worry of this not working- I wasn't prepared to take no for an answer.

The elevator popped open and we were dumped a little ways down from the door to his waiting room. Paul cracked his knuckles loudly behind me. The hallway smelled of latex. I pulled the door open and we walked in.

"May I help you?" The bored voice of a receptionist I didn't recognize called out to us almost immediately. I sauntered over to her desk. She looked to be about fifteen.

"I'm here to see Dr. Owens."

The blonde girl's face scrunched up. "Sorry, I have no idea who that is. This is Mrs. Freesher's office?"

I paused for a moment then said clearly, "I was here earlier today. This is Dr. Owens' office." Paul shifted his weight from where he stood behind me. I could feel his annoyance.

"Ooooh, is he a therapist?" I gave her a blank look.

Paul was done waiting- he nudged me out of the way and leaned onto the desk, taking up most of it. "Hey." His voice rolled out smoothly. "You see my friend right here?" He pointed to me and the girl nodded, blushing slightly. I felt my face get hot. "He's having a crisis. He needs Dr. Owens right about now." Paul leaned down to whisper something supposedly private in her ear. He knew I could hear him, but she didn't.

"His girlfriend just dumped him, right?" He held out his two index fingers a few inches apart. "His junk is about _this_ big. Poor girl was so unsatisfied she left him right after. This kid's a hot mes-"

I grabbed Paul's shoulder and hauled him back, my face completely red now. I wasn't sure whether to laugh at the girl's sympathetic face or punch myself for letting it go on that long. Maybe I'd just punch Paul later.

"I just need to see Dr. Owens." I spoke harshly through my clenched teeth.

The girl flipped her hair. "This is Mrs. Freesher's office now. She's a speech therapist. Dr. Owens probably ended his schedule for today, because Mrs. Freesher only comes in once he's done."

I bit back a growl of frustration. "Fine. He'll be back tomorrow, right?"

The girl looked at me blankly. "I don't know?"

"Do you know anything?" I asked her rudely.

She gave me a nasty smile. "You'll be leaving now," she announced to me. "And I wish you the best with your small issue…or should I say _microscopic_."

Paul doubled over with laughter right at the desk and the girl looked proud of herself. I scowled at the both of them and walked out, shutting the door loudly behind me. I was halfway to the elevator, fuming, when Paul caught up.

"Not cool." I told him. We rode the elevator down in silence.

We were almost back to his van when he muttered, "Sorry."

I nodded to show that I heard him and didn't do anything else but get into the crappy van. Paul wasn't a big one to admit he was wrong and I knew the shitty apology was probably the only one I'd ever get.

Paul's stomach roared loudly and he glared down at me defensively. "What? I ran patrol today and haven't eaten for hours. I'm starving here."

I knew my own stomach was displeased with me. The normal sized portion of lasagna I had tonight wasn't going to cut it for much longer. "Think Emily's cooking tonight?" I asked him hopefully

"Yeah…" Paul looked crestfallen. "I'm banned for a little, though. Sam cooked this dinner for Emily. It was expensive ham or some meaty shit. It was delicious, seriously. He seasoned it or something. How was I supposed to know it was for Emily! He alpha ordered me to fuck off for a few days."

Paul pulled out of the lot and only a block or two later I spotted a newish looking diner. We were stopped at the traffic light just outside and the smells wafted in through the window. Our stomachs growled in tandem.

"I don't have any money," I began.

Paul finished my thoughts exactly. "Dine and Dash?"

"Dine and Dash." I confirmed.

As soon as the light changed, Paul pulled the van into the lot. He hit a curb and, for the second time that day, I was nearly flung out of my seat. I toyed with the idea of wearing seat belts for about half a second, then decided against it. It just seemed like a hassle.

I had only Dine and Dashed once before, with Quil. It's not something I'm particularly proud of, but I figured if I'm running double patrols, ruining my already strained relationship with my mom, and transforming into a wolf beast everyday to protect these unknowing people from vampires, the least I could get is a free meal.

I had no second guessing once we were both seated comfortably in a booth close to the door. I was completely comfortable in what I was about to do.

The waiter, a slightly overweight older man, slowly ambled his way over. "What can I get for yous?"

Paul cut in front of me. "Two steaks- the big ones, with all the sides."

The man blinked lazily. "And for you?"

"I'll have the same."

The waiter shuffled away and I bounced my feet underneath the table. A moment later the waiter shuffled back bringing with him two tall glasses of water and steak knives. As soon as he left, Paul grabbed a steak knife and carelessly started to bend the blade in half.

"Dude, seriously?" I asked him. I lowered my voice, "It's bad enough we're not paying for this shit. You don't have to ruin the crap here, too."

He just looked at me and continued bending the knife back and forth, twisting the blade, silently daring me to say something again.

It wasn't worth the strain. I sighed quietly and looked out the window. It was starting to get darker.

A small car pulled into the lot and I watched two women get out of the car and walk with purpose towards the diner entrance. One of them, the shorter woman wearing a thick sweatshirt with the hood pulled over her head, slowed down almost to a stop right on the steps. The taller one turned around. It looked like they were arguing.

I lost interest and turned back to Paul, who had started ruining my knife now. I grabbed it from his hands but quickly pulled back when Paul shoved the knife forward into my grasp, letting the blade puncture my skin. "Asshole." I muttered.

I dropped my hand to my side below the table. A few seconds later I felt the slight pain stop. I scanned the table looking for any blood and when I didn't find any, I shot Paul the bird with my now uninjured hand.

He snickered. The door bell chimed and a second later a delicious scent filled my nose. I breathed in deeply, feeling my stomach rumble, letting the smell of juicy steak wash over me. It was everything I could do to stop the drooling.

Paul shifted in his seat, obviously smelling the steak, too. The older waiter walked steadily towards our booth, accompanied by a young waitress. Her name tag read "trainee." They were each holding two plates of steak. I think Paul actually did start to drool when the four steaks were set down on the table, still sizzling from being on the grill.

"Be right back with your sides." The trainee spoke nervously and I didn't bother to pay any attention to her. All my focus was on one thing right now: food.

The first bite was indescribable. So much juice, so many flavors, so, so _good. _If I moaned, I didn't care.

"This is better than sex." Paul declared around a mouth of half digested meat.

I'm not ashamed to say I agree with him.

We were both done with our first steaks when our side orders came. The trainee was gone now, and only our usual waiter stood in front of us. I reached out to lift the green beans and mashed potatoes off his trembling arms as Paul attacked the gravy boa, roasted onions, and stuffing with zeal.

The next several minutes neither of us spoke. Our only concerns were stuffing as much food as possible into our bodies, and then getting the hell out of here. I had just finished off the last bit of stuffing when Paul shifted again in his seat. He had done it a few times during the meal and now I was wondering if it was more than just impatience.

"What's up, man?" I burped loudly and patted my stomach leaning back against the seat.

"Feel funny." He grunted.

I shrugged. It was hardly the crisis I was imagining, namely, him sensing there was a leech nearby. "Probably gas."

Paul rolled his eyes.

A sudden crash, the kind associated with breaking dishes- a _lot_ of dishes, came from the other side of the diner.

The two women I saw park in the lot were now both standing up, looking at the pile of broken glass on the floor. Or rather, the taller one was looking. The shorter one was fisting and un-fisting her hands so quickly it seemed almost like a blur.

Paul whistled low under his breath and turned back around to his bit of roasted onion he still hadn't manage to polish off. "Hate to have to clean that shit up."

"Yeah…" I agreed with him, but couldn't look away from the scene in front of me.

"Kinda perfect, actually." Paul continued, unaware I wasn't giving him my full attention. "Good distraction for when we leave in a few."

The shorter woman sat herself down on the floor now and was rocking back and forth humming loudly. A small suspicion rose in my gut and I quashed it down swiftly. It wasn't her.

"Holly!" My insides clenched at the name. The taller brunette woman leaned down and whispered harshly in her face, "_Get off the floor!"_

I leaned forward in my seat, thankful for my wolf genes. I wanted to hear her reply. It wasn't necessary, because when Holly replied back, she screamed, quick, loud, and very high pitched. "YOU CAN'T FALL OFF THE FLOOR, MIRIAM!"

Paul whipped his head around and muttered, "Jesus, what drugs is this bitch on?" At the same time I cursed, "Fuck, it's her."

Paul's snapped his head back to me. "You _know_ her?"

"Yeah, she was in Dr. Owens' office with me earlier today. She did the same shit before, too." I squeaked my voice up high, imitating her. "_You can't fall off the floor!"_

Paul sniggered and stood up abruptly. "Let's get out of here."

I got up in front of Paul and opened the door as nondescript as possible. I gestured for him to go in front of me first and I jumped about a mile high when that girl, Holly, started cackling. I looked down at her, horrified, as she swayed back and forth, the same heartless, dead, empty laughter shooting out of her mouth.

"Let's get out of here, Paul." I said quietly, and walked outside. The door slammed shut behind me. I winced and groaned loudly. "You fuck! Now they all know we're-" I did a full circle around me, searching for my pack mate. "Paul?"

I looked back into the diner and saw Paul standing there, still staring down at the girl. A mixture of complete disgust and absolute admiration lined his face. I followed his eyes back to Holly, whose screeches of laughter had mellowed down. The older woman, Miriam, was hunched over her, running her fingers through her hair.

I froze, not understanding.

I looked back at Paul and then searched the diner. He had to be looking at someone else. Fuck, maybe he was admiring the art on the walls. He did not- _no. _ I wasn't even going to say it.

I'll admit, my thoughts were not kind. What kind of personal hell would I go through now that this insane girl had somehow caught Paul's attention? Would I have to deal with this shit every day now? Was it even possible to imprint on the mentally insane? Surely fate wouldn't be that cruel…

I watched the woman, Miriam, shoot daggers at Paul. She crowded herself in front of Holly, effectively blocking most of Paul's view.

Seizing my chance, I barged into the diner, fisted my hand, and punched Paul as hard as I could right into the side of his face. His body, not expecting the blow, twisted around violently and he fell to the floor.

He looked up at me, his mouth gaping like a fishes. I hauled him up off the floor and shoved him out of the door first.

"Where? Wha-."

I gave him a particularly hard shove towards the van passenger door. In his dazed state it was easy to manipulate him into the seat. I didn't trust him to be able to drive away from _her_. I slammed the door in his face and made it into the van's driver seat just in time for Paul to regain himself.

He frantically squirmed in the seat and tried to open the door. My fist prevented him from being successful.

"Fuck! Stop punching me, you prick!" A trickle of blood ran down from his nose.

"_Paul!"_ I roared, my hands shaking. "Did you imprint?" He looked at me, mouth open, eyes wild. "_Did you imprint?"_ I demanded again.

He shakily nodded his head and I beat the wheel with my fists. "Shit. Alright, we're leaving."

"N-"

I cut him off with a loud growl. "You're not thinking clearly, Paul. We both just saw that girl lose her shit all over the place in there and-"

"Don't talk about her like that!" Paul spat at me. His entire body was trembling.

I went on like he hadn't interrupted. "She's in no condition to get a goddamned soul mate today."

Paul wasn't listening. His fist went for my left cheek and I deflected it easily. The fact that my face wasn't bleeding was a show of just how much this had shaken him.

"I know her!" I yelled at him. "You stupid idiot! When we leave, which we _are, _we'll be able to find her. You need to _calm down._" I tried to put force behind the command like Sam does. I'm not sure if it made a difference, or if sense was entering his mind again. "Calm." I repeated.

He took a deep breath in and held it for a moment. When he blew the air out, I saw his frame relax slightly. The trembling was less, too. His human shape looked more solid.

It was then that I struck. I balled up both my fists and aimed three hard punches to the back of his skull. I felt a crack in my right knuckle and ignored it to deliver one more blow, directly to Paul's temple.

He slumped forward in the passenger seat and I threw the car into reverse and pulled out of the lot like a madman. My hits wouldn't keep him out forever- hopefully just long enough to get him to Sam.

As I rushed back towards La Push, I couldn't help but notice how much darker the sky was looking.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the later upload, I lost internet for a few days! Good? Bad? Too graphic? I really tried not to be. Let me know, please.


	6. Chapter 5

**I have died everyday waiting for you**

Chapter 5:

I started my day out happy. After waking up in the afternoon from a late patrol the day before, I went straight over to Sam and Emily's. I enjoyed a meal of monumental proportions. Emily cropped my hair back to its usual short length. I lounged around on their outdated plaid couch and flicked through boring TV channels, completely content.

My evening patrol shift with Quil was just about to start when there was a commotion outside. I sat up on the couch and my legs naturally tensed themselves. Quil paused from where he was in the kitchen and crooked his head toward the front door.

We both heard a door slam shut and a loud thump as Embry shouted out, "Guys! We've got a problem!"

Quil and I shared a nervous glance. Sam's steps came thundering down stairs and he waved us to follow him out the front door. It took my eyes a split second to adjust to the darker lighting. I blinked a few times, just to make sure I was really seeing what I thought I was.

Embry had an unconscious Paul face down in the dirt. It appeared as though Paul had rolled out of the truck and landed there.

Sam rushed forward and crouched down next to Paul. He looked up at Embry with steel in his eyes. "Tell me what happened." Quil and I crept closer. It was weird seeing Paul knocked out cold. Usually he was the one doing the knocking out.

"Paul imprinted." Embry informed us.

I jerked my head up. "Really?" I asked, surprised.

Embry fixed a glare on me. "No, Seth, I'm fucking making it all up."

To be honest, his remark stung me a bit. Quil growled and Sam stood up abruptly. "Quiet!" He snapped at the both of us, even though I hadn't said a word. To Embry, he ordered, "Go on."

Embry groaned deeply and ran a hand over his face, as if trying to ward off an unwanted memory. "Paul imprinted in some diner at Forks. It was after we went to go see the therapist my mom set me up with. Bastard put the sessions at two-fifty and Paul agreed to come with me to see if he would lower the price." Embry looked down and shuffled his feet.

I let out a small whine, knowing he was apprehensive about the next part.

He huffed out a breath. "Anyway, we went to the diner and he imprinted."

There was a few moments of silence before- "That's it? Don't make me drag it out of you, kid. Why is Paul unconscious? Where's the girl?" Sam wasn't in a trying mood anymore. I knew he'd alpha order Embry if we didn't get the full story soon.

"Just tell us, man." I urged him gently.

"The girl's name is Holly and she's a fucking mental case!" Embry rushed out. His shoulders relaxed the moment he did- as if holding in that was the biggest weight in the world to him right now.

"Mental Case?" Quil joked. "Then what's the problem?" He gestured to where Paul was still sprawled out by our feet. "Paul and her are a perfect match."

Embry shook his head. "You guys don't get it. This girl lost her shit in the diner. I think she threw dishes and she just completely broke down. She wouldn't get off the floor and did this fuckin' queer laughter." Embry looked at Sam. "I know her." He confessed quietly.

Sam's face had darkened at how Embry described Paul's imprint. "How?" He grit out.

"I saw her in the therapy waiting room. This girl is completely fucked, Sam. I was scared Paul would do something stupid so I knocked him out and dragged his ass back here. She did the same bullshit there, too that she screamed in the diner-_You can't fall off the floor, Miriam!"_

"What?" I added in. "She said that?"

Embry nodded. "I think Miriam may be her mom."

A rustling a decent hundred feet away from us made the conversation pause. Jake and Jared came barreling out of the woods, both sprinting. I guessed they were in a race. However, when they saw the four of us crowded around Paul, they stumbled to a slower pace and walked up to us.

Sam turned to me. "You're up, Seth." He looked over his shoulder. "You too, Quil. Whoever circled back around first can immediately start another circuit. I want the other one to check in on Leah and tell her she's up next with me, got it?"

"With you?" I asked skeptically. "No offense, Sam, but I think Leah would rather chew her foot off than be anywhere near you."

"She was originally with Paul, but now that this has happened, I don't want him patrolling until I get his side of the story. The last thing I want is one of my wolves to be ditching patrol to run after a girl."

I bowed my head and nodded. Sam's frustration of having to explain himself left me with a heavy feeling in my chest.

I walked a few yards away and stripped my shirt off. Behind me I heard Quil already phasing. I quickly peeled my pants off and a moment later I felt my mind connect with Quil's. Our thoughts wrapped together as we both processed what this imprinting would mean for Paul and the pack. I secretly hoped that Embry was embellishing a little. I didn't think Paul would be able to deal with an abnormal girl for an imprint. Last I heard he was still going out with this girl, Kristy.

"_I totally forgot about Kristy." _Quil butted in.

I shook off my irritation at having no privacy and loped away from Quil towards the cliffs. I was at the edge of my hearing range when I heard a pained moan. It sounded like it came from Paul. My suspicions were confirmed a split second later when Jared whooped, "Dude, you imprinted!"

I kicked up my pace, pushing my wolf legs to run faster. I wanted to be the first to finish the circuit. There was no way I wanted to be the one to tell Leah that she'd be patrolling with Sam later on.

XOXO  
ಠ_ʘ  
XOXO

I felt sick. I groaned and clutched my head. The room was spinning. "Ugh." I moaned out loud and cracked an eye open. My room was completely dark.

I shoved back the sheets and sat up in bed. From the doorway I thought I spotted a flicker of light.

"Presley?" I called out weakly. I coughed into my fist. The heartbeats in my head were too loud- no way could they all be mine.

I almost jumped out of my skin when my twin whispered back. "Yeah?" She walked into the room holding an empty glass. "Couldn't sleep either?" She asked me.

I nodded and then regretted the action when the heartbeats got louder. I was overcome with a sudden claustrophobia. My body temperature seemed to skyrocket. Sweat bullets formed on my hairline. The darkness felt like a prison. I got out of bed quickly and stripped off my pants. The cotton pajamas huddled around my feet and I stepped out of them.

It wasn't enough relief. I took three purposeful strides toward the window and thrust it open. I stuck my head out the window and relaxed my neck, letting my head dangle there. The sweet relief of the breeze came soon after.

Behind me I heard Presley clap loudly. I lifted my head and looked at her.

She put her hands on her hips defensively. "What? It was a _bug_. Please, Holly. You're room is going to be infested with them if you don't put a screen on that window."

Bugs scared Presley. They didn't scare me. I flopped my head back out the window. My neck folded in on itself.

"So?" Presley sounded annoyed. "This is what you're doing tonight? Look at yourself!" She ordered me. I held an arm out of the window and twisted it to where my line of vision was. I was still not as dark as most of the people here. I wished I had one of Kim's freckles.

Presley groaned behind me. "You don't get it, do you? You're in your underwear and you're half out a window. Why can't you be _normal?" _

"I don't know." I answered honestly. The pounding in my head was almost gone. I took out the bun in my hair and let it dangle towards the ground. Some pieces hung lower than others and I wondered if they wanted to get on the ground more than the others. If I jumped, I wondered if those shorter pieces would be the first to fly up with the wind, and try to save themselves. My twin's arms were suddenly around my waist and pulling me back into the room.

"I've been trying to get your attention for the last two minutes!" Presley yelled at me. Her collar bones were digging into the back of my neck and it wasn't comfortable. I tore myself away from her bony body.

I collapsed back onto my bed and shut my eyes. The pounding was back.

"Make it stop." I begged her. The mattress caved under her slight pressure. She lay down next to me.

"Holly? Make what stop?"

I made a pained sound in the back of my throat and threw my arms over my head. "The heartbeats." My voice was muffled and ashamed. I knew she couldn't hear them. It was only me. It was only ever me.

Presley grabbed at my arms and when I didn't allow her to pull them away from my face she gave up. "What would make them stop?" I rolled over slightly on my side, facing her. I couldn't tell if she was serious about helping me or not. She raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

"I want to go outside."

My twin didn't say anything, or move, for twenty-five seconds. I counted. Finally- "_Of course_ you do. Frack my life. Alright, get up."

Presley and I made our way quietly out of my room and into the hallway. Miriam's door was swung open completely and I peered inside. My mom was huddled under a large down blanket that looked black in the lighting. She was snoring softly.

My sister pressed a finger to her lips and nodded me forward. Our descent down the stairs was soundless. Ten steps to the door, five, three, two, one step. Almost outside.

"Oh god, I forgot you weren't wearing any pants!" I tried to open the door but Presley's body prevented me from opening it. She had thrown herself in front of me. I watched, fascinated, as she ripped off her sweatpants, revealing tight gray spandex shorts. She threw them at me. "Put those on."

I did as she asked. Presley nodded to me and then, finally, opened the door. Outside.

The first thing I noticed was the feeling that the air was much warmer than I expected it to be. The second thing I noticed was that my earlier hypothesis was correct: as I jumped off the last step leading to the grass, the shorter pieces of hair _were_ the first to fly up.

"Whatever you do, don't say a word!" Presley hissed out at me. She pointed above our heads. "That's mom's window and I know for a fact she keeps it open."

I ignored her and started to walk down the path. It didn't matter where Miriam's window was anyway- I had nothing to say. Grass was on either side of my bare feet. I couldn't resist myself- I squelched my toes into the cold dirt.

I felt better now.

XOXO  
ಠ_ʘ  
XOXO

I felt sick. Physically sick, emotionally sick, worried sick. Go ahead, pick one. I'm sure I felt them all. Angry sick, at Embry for doing what he did. Disgusted sick, with what I had done- or rather, what had been done _to_ me. I hadn't chosen to imprint, especially not on someone like her.

After I came to, Sam made the entire pack phase, excluding Seth and Quil, and made us all watch Embry's memories of my- personal- imprinting. Even though Embry had explained, Sam wanted to see it. Never in my life had I felt so ashamed.

Sam tried to talk me down, telling me this great fantastical bullshit about how every wolf imprints _for a reason_ and that this girl, this bat shit crazy girl, was somehow going to be _my_ reason. Watching Embry's memories…I barely even remembered her, Holly, doing any of those things. The broken dishes, the sitting on the floor, the hollow, insane laughter, the-theeye contact that led to the imprinting.

I shuddered violently in my wolf form. The taller black wolf that was Sam huffed slightly; a warning.

I felt like a stalker. I barely knew this girl and here I was, staking out her house. Hell, I had no idea if this was even the right one.

"_I told you, Paul, it's the right one." _

"_Butt out, Embry," _Sam stepped between us suddenly, like a referee. "_Let Paul work it out." _

I growled lowly and stalked a few yards away.

Jared's medium brown wolf form padded over and sat down next to me, silently showing his support. He was trying to keep his thoughts together and away from me. But still, I felt his tension in the current situation and how much he'd rather be with Kim. He was glad I had someone to be my Kim now, but at the same time he was grateful that some of the pack was here to babysit me, especially after seeing the horror show Embry replayed.

My ears perked forward as I heard movement the door to the dark house swung open quietly. I watched Holly, my imprint, mentally through seven different views, including my own. She crept out the door and then, with a gigantic smile on her face, jumped down the last step.

"_She doesn't look crazy to me_." Collin remarked. I silently agreed with him.

"_Maybe it was a fluke?"_ Jared added hopefully.

"_So, can I leave now?"_ Brady was impatient as ever.

Embry shook his gigantic wolf head. "_You all saw what I saw. She's fuckin' insane!"_

I stood up to my full wolf height abruptly and bared my teeth at Embry. He had crossed a line with my imprint, and not for the first time.

Jake, who had been silent up until now, heaved himself off the forest floor and stepped between us. _"Cut it out."_ He ordered. The weight of his command forced each Embry and I back a step.

I huffed and turned my eyes back to my imprint. We were at the edge of the forest line, so she had no chance at seeing any of us. I felt like a pervert, just for the basic fact that I, and the rest of the pack, was watching a girl who hadn't given us permission or who had knowledge that this was happening.

When Holly dug her feet into the dirt off the side of the pathway about a minute later, I called it quits.

"_Are you all satisfied now? Paul can control himself around his imprint, who, coincidentally, isn't acting crazy." _

I felt frustrated and dirty and trapped. I didn't want my pack mates spying on my imprint. Hell, I didn't want to be spying on her. But I liked it even less that they were here, too.

"_There was never a question in my mind that you couldn't handle this-" _Sam began.

"_Oh save the shit!" _I cut in. "_When Jared imprinted, none of us got together and huddled around her house in the dead of night. If this was Emily," _Sam growled threateningly at his fiancé's name, "_would we be here? Even if she was supposedly crazy? No!"_

My hackles were raised in defense. I felt waves of disapproval from all angles. It only pissed me off more.

"_Fine."_ Sam heaved a great wolf sigh. I didn't let my surprise show. "_Let's go everyone." _I watched with satisfaction as my pack mates shuffled away under Sam's command. After a moment, it was just me and him. His yellow eyes narrowed. "_I'm trusting you to come to me if you can't handle this. Regardless of how she's acting now, she's capable of being exactly how she was at the diner. And you're capable of being reckless, impulsive, and dangerous. You'd never forgive yourself if you hurt her." _

Sam left me with those haunting last words. He was thinking about Emily's severe scarring when he said them.

One by one my pack mates disappeared from my psyche until I was just left with Seth and Quil, who were nothing more than a faint hum of consciousness. I settled back down and contended myself to be, however far away, with my imprint.

I watched Holly shake off her feet and waltz back into her house.

I replayed scenario after scenario of possible meeting situations and how I would act and what I should say. I don't know how long I sat there, staring at the dark house, just thinking about everything. Probably a while. Maybe a little longer.

The only thing I was certain of, was that by the time I decided to leave, I no longer felt like a sick: physically, emotionally, worriedly.

In fact, I felt much better now.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! Please, please review. It would be so helpful to have your feedback on this. Does anyone mind the changing of POVs and how I don't make it clear right away?


End file.
